


Love Lies Under the Shadows

by Mezo_Phane



Series: The Peace of Love [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Armitage Hux Lives, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Armitage Hux is Smooth, Armitage Hux is a Tease, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Murder, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant, Physical Abuse, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Rose Tico Deserved Better, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28728990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mezo_Phane/pseuds/Mezo_Phane
Summary: Armitage Hux is plagued by nightmares of seeing his mother die at his father’s hand, despite knowing that she died during the Siege of Arkanis.  Can Rose comfort him, and perhaps bring the truth of her death to light?
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Armitage Hux's Mother, Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Series: The Peace of Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106060
Kudos: 20





	Love Lies Under the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this was originally posted on my tumblr, but I decided to put it here on the Archive too!

A.N. Once again, I thought I was done, people. But the Gingerrose muse struck again and it struck hard. So I buckled down and set out to write this. This is a sequel to my previous fic, The Peace of Love, but it can be read on it’s own.

Trigger Warning for nightmares, abuse and murder.Read carefully, guys.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romance

Enjoy!

* * *

Armitage was on Arkanis.In the courtyard of the Hux mansion, to be exact.His father was before him, the habitual look of abject fury on his face, which was nothing new.What was new, however, was the presence of his mother.She was on the ground, crying, bruises flowering on her face, doubtlessly elsewhere on her body too, and he was powerless to help her, as he was being restrained by some unseen force. 

“Stop!!Stop hurting her!!”He shouted, the uncontrollable rage coursing through him causing his accent to slip, making it revert to his childhood Arkanisian.

Brendol hauled his mother up by her hair, pulling her to her feet.“You’re just as weak as she is, boy.And weakness is something that must be eliminated.”The ruthless commandant shoved her in front of him, pulling out his blaster as he did so, pointing it at her.

“Mother!!”Armitage screamed just as Brendol pulled the trigger, and the next thing he knew, he was sitting bolt upright in bed, chest heaving, light from Tareth’s two moons streaming in through the window.He took a shuddering breath just as his wife, Rose, stirred beside him.

“Armie?”She said, voice rough from sleep, as she sat up, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.“You okay?”

“Nightmare, that’s all.Go back to sleep, darling,” he murmured in his normal accent, having regained mastery of himself.

“The usual?”

Rose knew well the regular menu of his nocturnal horrors, just as he knew hers.

“No, something new, I’m afraid.”

“What was it, if you’re okay with telling me?”She wrapped a comforting arm around his waist, laying her head on his shoulder.

“Mother.Brendol beat her in front of me.I was powerless to help her, and then he shot her.Fortunately, I woke before I could see the aftermath,” he numbly said.

“Oh, honey,” Rose whispered, a stricken look on her face.“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, my dear.”

“No, it’s not, that’s horrible.Did… did something like that actually happen?”

“No, thank God, nothing like that.It was more a case of neglect.He never mentioned her or paid attention to her after he took me from her.He saved his beatings for me.”

“Oh, Armie,” Rose sympathetically whispered, drawing him into her arms.He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her intoxicating scent and focusing on the feeling of her right hand moving soothingly up and down his back, her left hand stroking the hair at his nape.After several minutes of this, she moved to lie down, taking him with her, the two of them still holding onto each other.Following what seemed like an interminable period of time, but in reality was only an hour, he drifted off to a restless sleep.

Over the period of a week, Armitage slept intermittently, snatches of rest here and there, fear of what he would see in his dreams plaguing him.He could see Rose’s worried looks as the dark circles that hadn’t been under his eyes for a very long time made a vicious return, his glasses, now very necessary because of his exhaustion, doing nothing to hide them at all.On the eighth night of this ordeal, he found himself again in that courtyard, Brendol once again standing over his beaten, weeping mother.“No, no, no,” he muttered, struggling against his invisible bonds.Everything played out exactly as it had last week, except, instead of mercifully waking when Brendol pulled the trigger, he saw his mother collapse lifeless to the ground. 

“NO!!MOTHER!!”He screamed, his unseen bonds releasing him.He crawled to where his mother lay sprawled on the cobblestones, protectively cradling her cooling body in his arms, tears spilling from his eyes.

“See?You’re useless, Armitage.I’ll be doing the galaxy a service by killing you as I killed your miserable mother,” he heard Brendol say.

Looking up, Armitage saw Brendol looming over them, blaster poised to end his life.Not caring at this point, Armitage spat the words he had always longed to tell his father — in Arkanish, no less, a final act of defiance.“Gabh Transna Ort Fhéin!”

Brendol pulled the trigger, and Armitage shot up in bed, sobbing.Rose immediately awakened and held him as he trembled and cried.“Oh Rose, he killed her, he killed her,” he wailed repeatedly, clinging to her like she was the only thing keeping him anchored to the world, while she shushed and gently rocked him. 

It took what seemed like an eternity, but he calmed, and was lying in her embrace, when he said, “I’m sorry.I’ll go and lie down in the work room,” referring to the cot he kept in the upstairs work room for when he needed to rest while working on a project.

Rose tightened her hold on him, saying, “You’ll do nothing of the sort.You’re staying right here with me.”

“You might not be able to sleep if I remain, my dear.”

“I don’t care.What’s a few hours of sleep when you’re suffering like this, Armie?”

“I — ”

“I know what you’re going to say.You have me anyway,” she softly smiled, as she brushed aside the strands of copper hair that had fallen into his eyes before gently kissing him.

Her kiss was a balm to his spirit, and he soon deepened it, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.A part of him didn’t want to end the night on  just a kiss, but he soon pulled back, not wanting to take advantage of the kindness of his wife.

Rose looked slightly disappointed, yet understanding, when her gaze focused on him again.She drew his head to rest on her shoulder, her thumb rubbing small circles on his neck.It was about fifteen minutes before Rose spoke again.“Tell me about her?”

“Who?”He asked, even though he knew who she was talking about.

“Your mother.I know she worked in your father’s kitchen, but… tell me more?If you can.”

He sighed, recalling the memories he counted among his most precious.“Her name was Aisling.I never knew her last name.She… she was tall.Taller than most women, and slender.She had a beautiful singing voice.Clear and high.She would sing to me at night. 

I remember sitting in the kitchen, watching her assist the head cook and the head baker.Sometimes the head baker would allow me to help the two of them.I remember laughing as Mother rubbed flour into my hair. 

Some of the servants were mean-spirited when it came to my presence, gossiping and such, making rude comments about me and Mother, but the head cook and baker liked the two of us, so they couldn’t do much worse than talk. 

Every now and then, Cook would let Mother off work so she could stay with me in the servant’s quarters.No one ever told Brendol — Cook could be as terrifying as he if she was roused to it.I loved those days.We would sit on the windowsill in our drafty room watching the rain fall.Memories of those days are why I enjoy the rain so much.She would hold me so I wouldn’t fall off the ledge, and we’d race raindrops down the windowpane.It could be cold, so cold in that room, but I never noticed, because the warmth of her arms could chase away the chill of the coldest Arkanisian day.Hers is one of two people’s embraces I consider the best.”

“Whose is the other?”Rose asked, a teasing note in her voice. 

“Dameron’s,” he grinned, and when Rose swatted him, he laughed, amending, “it’s yours, of course, darling.”

Continuing, he said, “I still remember how she smelled.Like the heather that grew on the hills around the mansion, and the spices from the kitchen.And her hands — they were very rough from her work in the kitchen, but to me, they were always soft.”

“What did she look like?”

Armitage shut his eyes, bringing the clearest image he could summon of his mother to the forefront of his mind.“She had sharp features like mine, and red, deep red hair.If you think mine is red, hers was redder.And her eyes… I have her eyes.”

“You look like her, then,” Rose grinned.

He frowned, considering her words.“Well… yes, I suppose.”

He was silent for a little while before he spoke again.“Sometimes, I wish I had never been taken from my mother.”

“If that happened, we might not have met.”

“True.But my heart tells me that destiny would have led us to each other no matter what.”

“You’re a romantic, Armitage Hux.”

“Only for you, my flower.”

There was a short pause, then, “I’m curious about something.”

He hummed interrogatively.

“When you woke up, you sounded… different.”

“Different how?”

“Your accent.It was different.”

“Oh.Well.I didn’t always sound like this.The Imperial accent is one I learned for many reasons, survival not the least among them.I must have spoken in my childhood accent.Arkanisian.I could even speak a different language, Arkanish, as a child.”

“Can you…”

“Cad ba mhaith leat dom a rá, a ghrá mo chroí?”

“What did you say?”She eagerly asked.

“I said,” he murmured, allowing his voice to fall into the cadence of the Arkanisian brogue, “‘What would you like me to say, love of my heart?’”

He didn’t miss the little shudder that moved through her and the gasp that fell from her lips.Hmm.Interesting.He filed away that bit of knowledge, before Rose tentatively asked, “Tell me more about your mother?”

He willingly indulged her, telling her stories about his childhood until they both fell asleep, wanting to share this part of himself with her.

* * *

It was two months after that horrible nightmare, and telling her about his mother had truly been for the best.His sleep had so far been peaceful, and he even had the most pleasant dreams about his mother, amalgamations of his best memories of her. 

But this time, it wasn’t his sleeping life that had been disturbing him — it was his waking life.For the last several days, Rose had been acting very, very strangely.Like she was hiding a secret.She would smile at him in the oddest way, and she would open her mouth like she had something to say, before snapping it shut.He would ask her if she had something to say, but she would always find some sort of way to distract him from his question.And then there were the sneaking glances, the snickers when she thought he couldn’t hear her.It was driving him up the wall.

He had had enough.He resolved to ask her what on earth was going on when she woke the next day, and he would not be deterred. 

His world was then thrown off its axis when he woke, and found Rose’s side of the bed empty.It was a rarity, no, an impossibility, that Rose could be awake before him.Quietly, he moved towards the bathroom door, checking that she was not there.No one was in the bathroom.Armitage strained his hearing, listening for the slightest sound in the house.There was a voice that did not belong to his wife coming from the lower floor. 

His heart thundering in his chest, he silently moved to his nightstand, pulling out his blaster and slipping his old monomolecular blade up his sleeve.Creeping downstairs, he surged into the kitchen, blaster raised, hoping to catch whoever was in his and his wife’s house off guard.

The sequence of events that followed was this.He saw that there was only one other person in the house, and she was seated at the dining table, Rose across from her.The strange woman exclaimed, which alerted Rose, who yelped, immediately raising her hands, nearly knocking down her caf mug, as she gasped, “Armitage!”

The other woman’s jaw dropped, and she wonderingly murmured, “Armitage?”His blaster began to move towards her when it registered in his mind that the woman had murmured his name in an Arkanisian accent.The blaster quickly fell to his side, then the floor, as he took in her willowy figure, flaming red hair with a touch of gray at the temples, sharp features, and her glass-green eyes. 

“Mother?”He whispered, lip trembling, his voice unknowingly slipping into the same Arkanisian brogue.

“Armitage, a stór,” she said, as she stood and approached him, holding out her hands, tears sparkling in her eyes.“Come here, my boy.”

He did not hesitate.He ran to her, and oh, her embrace was as warm as he remembered, and she even smelled the same.“I thought you were dead!He told me you were dead!”He wept, knowing she would understand who he was referring to.

“I survived, my boy. I survived.” 

Mother and son stood there, each overwhelmed with emotion.Then, to his shock, she said, “I’m so sorry, my son.”

“Whatever for, Mother?If anything, it’s me who should be sorry.I didn’t try to find you, and I did things, horrible, terrible things —“

“Shhh.You couldn’t have known I was alive, and you’re sorry for what you did, that’s what matters.I’m sorry for not fighting hard enough for you.I should never have let Brendol take you.”

“It’s not your fault.He would have killed you if you had.You’re here, now, alive.But how?How are you here?”

“General Dameron found me, and put me in contact with your dear wife.When she told me who she was, and who she was married to, I knew I had to come and see you.As to how I escaped with my life when Arkanis was bombed, well, I was in the cellar gathering ingredients for supper from the conservators.Because I was underground, I managed to survive.Eventually, through a lot of hard, honest work, I found my way off planet, and I moved around from place to place until I settled on Hestia in the Inner Rim.I run the orphanage and the soup kitchen in my town.It’s a simple life, but I’m happy with it.”

“I’m glad you’re happy with your life, Mother.”

“And from what dear Rose has told me, you’re happy too.”

He turned to Rose, who had had a bright, teary smile on her face through the whole reunion, his love for his amazing, wonderful wife unabashedly shining in his eyes, and said, “Utterly, and incomprehensibly.”

The three of them spent the day together, Armitage joyfully making new memories with his mother.She was originally only going to stay for three days, but he quickly managed to convince her without much effort to extend her stay for a week, though she refused to move on the point of her staying at the small hostel in town.He knew he was grinning like an idiot as Mother, at her insistence, helped him and Rose in the kitchen for dinner, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

* * *

For Rose, the whole day had been beautiful.She was so glad to see Armitage like that, so effervescently happy, so peaceful. But it had also been a very interesting day.Ever since Armitage saw his mother in their kitchen, he had been speaking in that Arkanisian accent, which as it was, did funny things to her stomach, and when you added his prolonged conversations with Aisling in Arkanish, it made for quite the heady combination.She had been staring, she knew.He had almost caught her a couple times, but she was pretty sure she had managed to escape detection. 

Following the amazing dinner, they escorted Aisling to the hostel, having made plans the next day for Rose to rent a speeder so the three of them could visit the cliffs on the coast three hours away.It would be a long trip, but they knew it would be a treat for her to see them. 

Hand in hand, husband and wife made their way back home, Rose completely missing the look in her husband’s eyes.

* * *

He noticed that Rose had been staring at him the whole day.She tried to hide it, but he had caught her repeatedly out of the corner of his eye.However, he let her think that he was ignorant of what she was playing at.He knew it had something to do with his childhood accent, which he had noticed he had fallen into sometime around lunch, and his use of Arkanish, remembering well how she had reacted the first time she heard him use them.

This time though, as they walked home, their path illumined by the light of the moons, Armitage was was the one staring at Rose.The light caught on her being, showing her delicate, high cheekbones, the brightness of her eyes, the elegant curve of her nose, the velvet sable of her hair, the fullness of her lips, her lips which had no qualms about kissing his, and the strength of her hand, her pure hand, which unashamedly held onto his bloodstained one, willingly touching him. 

Not for the first time was he struck by the beauty of this woman who called him hers, who saw his unworthiness, yet deemed him worthy and said, “You.I choose to love  _you_ for the rest of my life.I choose to make  _you_ bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh.”She chose to plunge headlong into the shadows of his heart and make it her home, suffusing her light into his very being, accepting his darkness and his demons.

Once again, he renewed his daily vow to never take Rose for granted, to show her that she was not wrong in her choice to give him her love.To show her as much love as he could.Sometimes, he thought he would die from the amount of love he felt for her.And just when he thought he couldn’t possibly love her any more, Rose went and found his mother, bringing her back to him, whole and happy — making his heart swell to heretofore unknown proportions. 

She had to know.He would show her, tonight, just how much he loved her.

They had arrived at their house, and Rose released his hand to unlock the door.He entered after her, and waited until she had shut it behind him to suddenly crowd into her space.Rose found herself with her back pressed against the door, Armitage leaning on his hand braced against the wall next to her head.He inclined his ear, and he could hear her breath coming in short gasps.He pitched his voice down to the octave he knew she liked, saying, “How about a cup of tea, mo chroí?”

Rose squeaked, “That — that sounds wonderful, Armie.”

He smirked, pulling away from her, and walking to the kitchen to put the kettle on.His smirk only widened when he heard her heavy exhale and her mutter of “Holy crap, Rose, get ahold of yourself.”This was going to be interesting. 

* * *

Rose came into the kitchen, and sat at the table while they waited for the water to boil.Her eyes determinedly avoided the languid form of her husband as he rested against the counter, his glass-green gaze piercing through her.Soon, the kettle whistled, prompting him to extinguish the flame on the stove and pour the hot water into their mugs.His back turned to her, Rose felt free to watch him.His movements were precise and measured, no gesture superfluous.The mugs were then placed on the table, and he sat across from her. 

Tentatively, she reached for the steaming mug, waiting for him to say something.But he remained silent, content to sip at his tea, an indecipherable sparkle in his eyes.Rose was on edge, just waiting for something to happen — she could feel it, the air was charged with a tense energy, like a thread ready to snap any second.Roughly twenty minutes were spent with them just silently sitting there, sipping the piping hot drink.They both finished their tea at roughly the same time, and Rose’s heart began thudding in earnest in her chest.He stood, mug in hand, and leaned over.Then to her relief and slight frustration, he merely took her mug in his other hand, and went to place it on the counter to be washed tomorrow. 

Her heart was on the verge of calming when he returned, and dragged his chair to sit right across from her, the table no longer separating them.His elbow rested on the table, and his head was tilted, an intense look on his face.“You planned all this, didn’t you?You asked Dameron to find my mother, and brought her here.” 

Rose shivered — he had to know what that look of his and that accent did to her.“Yes.”Her voice was surprisingly steady.

“I figured.Now,” he leaned forward in his seat.“Tell me why you did that.”

“It was your father who told you she was dead.I knew he could’ve lied, so I asked Poe to see if he could find her, wherever she was.I told him her name and what she looked like.He found her, and I got in contact with her and told her who I was, that I was your wife.I didn’t even have to ask her to come, she practically had her passage here booked before I even hung up.”

“You still didn’t answer the question, Rose,” he softly said.

“I… I did it because I love you.So much.”

“Rose…” he whispered, and the next thing she knew, he was on his knees, kissing her deeply, desperately, like a man starved.When they parted for air, breath ragged, she saw that his eyes were blown wide, as his trembling hand reverently caressed her face.“Rose, my Rose.I love you so much, sometimes I think I’ll die from it.”

She gasped and shut her eyes from the intoxicating feelings coursing through her at his words.

He kissed her once more, worshipfully, and as if it were the only thing he lived for.She cried from the intensity of it all, overwhelmed by the depth of his love for her.She could only cling tightly to him, swept away in the riptide of his passion.

When he drew back, he gently wiped the tears from her eyes, and murmured, “If you’ll let me, mo ghrá, I would like to show you just how much I love you.”

She let her head fall onto his shoulder, catching her breath.When she had recovered, she looked up into his dear, dear eyes.“Show me,” she said breathlessly.

“Gladly,” he replied.And he swept her up into his arms, carrying her to their room, lost in his love.

_** The End ** _

**Author's Note:**

> Arkanish (Irish) glossary
> 
> Gabh Transna Ort Fhéin: (pronounced as Gave [long a] Tras [Trash with no H] na orth [Worth without a W] Hayn. [Close enough]) [literally translates to “Go Sideways on Yourself”, A.K.A., “Go F@&k Yourself”]
> 
> Aisling (pronounced ASH-ling) [means “dream” or “vision”]
> 
> Cad ba mhaith leat dom a rá, a ghrá mo chroí: (Near as I can figure from several websites, this is pronounced as kahd bah whaheeth lleyuht dohm ah raw, ah grawh muh khree) [Please pardon me if this is completely wrong]
> 
> A Stór: my treasure (pronounced uh STORE) [usually used to express affectionate friendship, especially for parent and children relationships.]
> 
> Mo Chroí: my heart (pronounced muh KHREE)
> 
> Mo Ghrá: my love (pronounced muh GRAWH)
> 
> I used google translate and various websites to glean my information — Irish speaking people, please, please do not hesitate to correct me if anything is wrong here!
> 
> Title is taken from Rae Morris’ song “Under the Shadows”
> 
> Please read & review!


End file.
